Chapter XIII: Section 8 (4)

In the next place we have to consider that there are divers kinds
of fire. There are, for example, first, flame; and secondly,
those emanations of flame which do not burn but only give light
to the eyes; thirdly, the remains of fire, which are seen in
red-hot embers after the flame has been extinguished. There are
similar differences in the air; of which the brightest part is
called the aether, and the most turbid sort mist and darkness;
and there are various other nameless kinds which arise from the
inequality of the triangles. Water, again, admits in the first
place of a division into two kinds; the one liquid and the other
fusile. The liquid kind is composed of the small and unequal
particles of water; and moves itself and is moved by other bodies
owing to the want of uniformity and the shape of its particles;
whereas the fusile kind, being formed of large and uniform
particles, is more stable than the other, and is heavy and
compact by reason of its uniformity. But when fire gets in and
dissolves the particles and destroys the uniformity, it has
greater mobility, and becoming fluid is thrust forth by the
neighbouring air and spreads upon the earth; and this dissolution
of the solid masses is called melting, and their spreading out
upon the earth flowing. Again, when the fire goes out of the
fusile substance, it does not pass into a vacuum, but into the
neighbouring air; and the air which is displaced forces together
the liquid and still moveable mass into the place which was
occupied by the fire, and unites it with itself. Thus compressed
the mass resumes its equability, and is again at unity with
itself, because the fire which was the author of the inequality
has retreated; and this departure of the fire is called cooling,
and the coming together which follows upon it is termed
congealment. Of all the kinds termed fusile, that which is the
densest and is formed out of the finest and most uniform parts is
that most precious possession called gold, which is hardened by
filtration through rock; this is unique in kind, and has both a
glittering and a yellow colour. A shoot of gold, which is so
dense as to be very hard, and takes a black colour, is termed
adamant. There is also another kind which has parts nearly like
gold, and of which there are several species; it is denser than
gold, and it contains a small and fine portion of earth, and is
therefore harder, yet also lighter because of the great
interstices which it has within itself; and this substance, which
is one of the bright and denser kinds of water, when solidified
is called copper. There is an alloy of earth mingled with it,
which, when the two parts grow old and are disunited, shows
itself separately and is called rust. The remaining phenomena of
the same kind there will be no difficulty in reasoning out by the
method of probabilities. A man may sometimes set aside
meditations about eternal things, and for recreation turn to
consider the truths of generation which are probable only; he
will thus gain a pleasure not to be repented of, and secure for
himself while he lives a wise and moderate pastime. Let us grant
ourselves this indulgence, and go through the probabilities
relating to the same subjects which follow next in order.

Water which is mingled with fire, so much as is fine and liquid
(being so called by reason of its motion and the way in which it
rolls along the ground), and soft, because its bases give way and
are less stable than those of earth, when separated from fire and
air and isolated, becomes more uniform, and by their retirement
is compressed into itself; and if the condensation be very great,
the water above the earth becomes hail, but on the earth, ice;
and that which is congealed in a less degree and is only half
solid, when above the earth is called snow, and when upon the
earth, and condensed from dew, hoar-frost. Then, again, there are
the numerous kinds of water which have been mingled with one
another, and are distilled through plants which grow in the
earth; and this whole class is called by the name of juices or
saps. The unequal admixture of these fluids creates a variety of
species; most of them are nameless, but four which are of a fiery
nature are clearly distinguished and have names. First, there is
wine, which warms the soul as well as the body: secondly, there
is the oily nature, which is smooth and divides the visual ray,
and for this reason is bright and shining and of a glistening
appearance, including pitch, the juice of the castor berry, oil
itself, and other things of a like kind: thirdly, there is the
class of substances which expand the contracted parts of the
mouth, until they return to their natural state, and by reason of
this property create sweetness;—these are included under the
general name of honey: and, lastly, there is a frothy nature,
which differs from all juices, having a burning quality which
dissolves the flesh; it is called opos (a vegetable acid).

As to the kinds of earth, that which is filtered through water
passes into stone in the following manner:—The water which mixes
with the earth and is broken up in the process changes into air,
and taking this form mounts into its own place. But as there is
no surrounding vacuum it thrusts away the neighbouring air, and
this being rendered heavy, and, when it is displaced, having been
poured around the mass of earth, forcibly compresses it and
drives it into the vacant space whence the new air had come up;
and the earth when compressed by the air into an indissoluble
union with water becomes rock. The fairer sort is that which is
made up of equal and similar parts and is transparent; that which
has the opposite qualities is inferior. But when all the watery
part is suddenly drawn out by fire, a more brittle substance is
formed, to which we give the name of pottery. Sometimes also
moisture may remain, and the earth which has been fused by fire
becomes, when cool, a certain stone of a black colour. A like
separation of the water which had been copiously mingled with
them may occur in two substances composed of finer particles of
earth and of a briny nature; out of either of them a
half-solid-body is then formed, soluble in water—the one, soda,
which is used for purging away oil and earth, the other, salt,
which harmonizes so well in combinations pleasing to the palate,
and is, as the law testifies, a substance dear to the gods. The
compounds of earth and water are not soluble by water, but by
fire only, and for this reason:—Neither fire nor air melt masses
of earth; for their particles, being smaller than the interstices
in its structure, have plenty of room to move without forcing
their way, and so they leave the earth unmelted and undissolved;
but particles of water, which are larger, force a passage, and
dissolve and melt the earth. Wherefore earth when not
consolidated by force is dissolved by water only; when
consolidated, by nothing but fire; for this is the only body
which can find an entrance. The cohesion of water again, when
very strong, is dissolved by fire only—when weaker, then either
by air or fire—the former entering the interstices, and the
latter penetrating even the triangles. But nothing can dissolve
air, when strongly condensed, which does not reach the elements
or triangles; or if not strongly condensed, then only fire can
dissolve it. As to bodies composed of earth and water, while the
water occupies the vacant interstices of the earth in them which
are compressed by force, the particles of water which approach
them from without, finding no entrance, flow around the entire
mass and leave it undissolved; but the particles of fire,
entering into the interstices of the water, do to the water what
water does to earth and fire to air (The text seems to be
corrupt.), and are the sole causes of the compound body of earth
and water liquefying and becoming fluid. Now these bodies are of
two kinds; some of them, such as glass and the fusible sort of
stones, have less water than they have earth; on the other hand,
substances of the nature of wax and incense have more of water
entering into their composition.

I have thus shown the various classes of bodies as they are
diversified by their forms and combinations and changes into one
another, and now I must endeavour to set forth their affections
and the causes of them. In the first place, the bodies which I
have been describing are necessarily objects of sense. But we
have not yet considered the origin of flesh, or what belongs to
flesh, or of that part of the soul which is mortal. And these
things cannot be adequately explained without also explaining the
affections which are concerned with sensation, nor the latter
without the former: and yet to explain them together is hardly
possible; for which reason we must assume first one or the other
and afterwards examine the nature of our hypothesis. In order,
then, that the affections may follow regularly after the
elements, let us presuppose the existence of body and soul.

First, let us enquire what we mean by saying that fire is hot;
and about this we may reason from the dividing or cutting power
which it exercises on our bodies. We all of us feel that fire is
sharp; and we may further consider the fineness of the sides, and
the sharpness of the angles, and the smallness of the particles,
and the swiftness of the motion—all this makes the action of fire
violent and sharp, so that it cuts whatever it meets. And we must
not forget that the original figure of fire (i.e. the pyramid),
more than any other form, has a dividing power which cuts our
bodies into small pieces (Kepmatizei), and thus naturally
produces that affection which we call heat; and hence the origin
of the name (thepmos, Kepma). Now, the opposite of this is
sufficiently manifest; nevertheless we will not fail to describe
it. For the larger particles of moisture which surround the body,
entering in and driving out the lesser, but not being able to
take their places, compress the moist principle in us; and this
from being unequal and disturbed, is forced by them into a state
of rest, which is due to equability and compression. But things
which are contracted contrary to nature are by nature at war, and
force themselves apart; and to this war and convulsion the name
of shivering and trembling is given; and the whole affection and
the cause of the affection are both termed cold. That is called
hard to which our flesh yields, and soft which yields to our
flesh; and things are also termed hard and soft relatively to one
another. That which yields has a small base; but that which rests
on quadrangular bases is firmly posed and belongs to the class
which offers the greatest resistance; so too does that which is
the most compact and therefore most repellent. The nature of the
light and the heavy will be best understood when examined in
connexion with our notions of above and below; for it is quite a
mistake to suppose that the universe is parted into two regions,
separate from and opposite to each other, the one a lower to
which all things tend which have any bulk, and an upper to which
things only ascend against their will. For as the universe is in
the form of a sphere, all the extremities, being equidistant from
the centre, are equally extremities, and the centre, which is
equidistant from them, is equally to be regarded as the opposite
of them all. Such being the nature of the world, when a person
says that any of these points is above or below, may he not be
justly charged with using an improper expression? For the centre
of the world cannot be rightly called either above or below, but
is the centre and nothing else; and the circumference is not the
centre, and has in no one part of itself a different relation to
the centre from what it has in any of the opposite parts. Indeed,
when it is in every direction similar, how can one rightly give
to it names which imply opposition? For if there were any solid
body in equipoise at the centre of the universe, there would be
nothing to draw it to this extreme rather than to that, for they
are all perfectly similar; and if a person were to go round the
world in a circle, he would often, when standing at the antipodes
of his former position, speak of the same point as above and
below; for, as I was saying just now, to speak of the whole which
is in the form of a globe as having one part above and another
below is not like a sensible man. The reason why these names are
used, and the circumstances under which they are ordinarily
applied by us to the division of the heavens, may be elucidated
by the following supposition:—if a person were to stand in that
part of the universe which is the appointed place of fire, and
where there is the great mass of fire to which fiery bodies
gather—if, I say, he were to ascend thither, and, having the
power to do this, were to abstract particles of fire and put them
in scales and weigh them, and then, raising the balance, were to
draw the fire by force towards the uncongenial element of the
air, it would be very evident that he could compel the smaller
mass more readily than the larger; for when two things are
simultaneously raised by one and the same power, the smaller body
must necessarily yield to the superior power with less reluctance
than the larger; and the larger body is called heavy and said to
tend downwards, and the smaller body is called light and said to
tend upwards. And we may detect ourselves who are upon the earth
doing precisely the same thing. For we often separate earthy
natures, and sometimes earth itself, and draw them into the
uncongenial element of air by force and contrary to nature, both
clinging to their kindred elements. But that which is smaller
yields to the impulse given by us towards the dissimilar element
more easily than the larger; and so we call the former light, and
the place towards which it is impelled we call above, and the
contrary state and place we call heavy and below respectively.
Now the relations of these must necessarily vary, because the
principal masses of the different elements hold opposite
positions; for that which is light, heavy, below or above in one
place will be found to be and become contrary and transverse and
every way diverse in relation to that which is light, heavy,
below or above in an opposite place. And about all of them this
has to be considered:—that the tendency of each towards its
kindred element makes the body which is moved heavy, and the
place towards which the motion tends below, but things which have
an opposite tendency we call by an opposite name. Such are the
causes which we assign to these phenomena. As to the smooth and
the rough, any one who sees them can explain the reason of them
to another. For roughness is hardness mingled with irregularity,
and smoothness is produced by the joint effect of uniformity and
density.

The most important of the affections which concern the whole body
remains to be considered—that is, the cause of pleasure and pain
in the perceptions of which I have been speaking, and in all
other things which are perceived by sense through the parts of
the body, and have both pains and pleasures attendant on them.
Let us imagine the causes of every affection, whether of sense or
not, to be of the following nature, remembering that we have
already distinguished between the nature which is easy and which
is hard to move; for this is the direction in which we must hunt
the prey which we mean to take. A body which is of a nature to be
easily moved, on receiving an impression however slight, spreads
abroad the motion in a circle, the parts communicating with each
other, until at last, reaching the principle of mind, they
announce the quality of the agent. But a body of the opposite
kind, being immobile, and not extending to the surrounding
region, merely receives the impression, and does not stir any of
the neighbouring parts; and since the parts do not distribute the
original impression to other parts, it has no effect of motion on
the whole animal, and therefore produces no effect on the
patient. This is true of the bones and hair and other more earthy
parts of the human body; whereas what was said above relates
mainly to sight and hearing, because they have in them the
greatest amount of fire and air. Now we must conceive of pleasure
and pain in this way. An impression produced in us contrary to
nature and violent, if sudden, is painful; and, again, the sudden
return to nature is pleasant; but a gentle and gradual return is
imperceptible and vice versa. On the other hand the impression of
sense which is most easily produced is most readily felt, but is
not accompanied by pleasure or pain; such, for example, are the
affections of the sight, which, as we said above, is a body
naturally uniting with our body in the day-time; for cuttings and
burnings and other affections which happen to the sight do not
give pain, nor is there pleasure when the sight returns to its
natural state; but the sensations are clearest and strongest
according to the manner in which the eye is affected by the
object, and itself strikes and touches it; there is no violence
either in the contraction or dilation of the eye. But bodies
formed of larger particles yield to the agent only with a
struggle; and then they impart their motions to the whole and
cause pleasure and pain—pain when alienated from their natural
conditions, and pleasure when restored to them. Things which
experience gradual withdrawings and emptyings of their nature,
and great and sudden replenishments, fail to perceive the
emptying, but are sensible of the replenishment; and so they
occasion no pain, but the greatest pleasure, to the mortal part
of the soul, as is manifest in the case of perfumes. But things
which are changed all of a sudden, and only gradually and with
difficulty return to their own nature, have effects in every way
opposite to the former, as is evident in the case of burnings and
cuttings of the body.

Thus have we discussed the general affections of the whole body,
and the names of the agents which produce them. And now I will
endeavour to speak of the affections of particular parts, and the
causes and agents of them, as far as I am able. In the first
place let us set forth what was omitted when we were speaking of
juices, concerning the affections peculiar to the tongue. These
too, like most of the other affections, appear to be caused by
certain contractions and dilations, but they have besides more of
roughness and smoothness than is found in other affections; for
whenever earthy particles enter into the small veins which are
the testing instruments of the tongue, reaching to the heart, and
fall upon the moist, delicate portions of flesh—when, as they are
dissolved, they contract and dry up the little veins, they are
astringent if they are rougher, but if not so rough, then only
harsh. Those of them which are of an abstergent nature, and purge
the whole surface of the tongue, if they do it in excess, and so
encroach as to consume some part of the flesh itself, like potash
and soda, are all termed bitter. But the particles which are
deficient in the alkaline quality, and which cleanse only
moderately, are called salt, and having no bitterness or
roughness, are regarded as rather agreeable than otherwise.
Bodies which share in and are made smooth by the heat of the
mouth, and which are inflamed, and again in turn inflame that
which heats them, and which are so light that they are carried
upwards to the sensations of the head, and cut all that comes in
their way, by reason of these qualities in them, are all termed
pungent. But when these same particles, refined by putrefaction,
enter into the narrow veins, and are duly proportioned to the
particles of earth and air which are there, they set them
whirling about one another, and while they are in a whirl cause
them to dash against and enter into one another, and so form
hollows surrounding the particles that enter—which watery vessels
of air (for a film of moisture, sometimes earthy, sometimes pure,
is spread around the air) are hollow spheres of water; and those
of them which are pure, are transparent, and are called bubbles,
while those composed of the earthy liquid, which is in a state of
general agitation and effervescence, are said to boil or
ferment—of all these affections the cause is termed acid. And
there is the opposite affection arising from an opposite cause,
when the mass of entering particles, immersed in the moisture of
the mouth, is congenial to the tongue, and smooths and oils over
the roughness, and relaxes the parts which are unnaturally
contracted, and contracts the parts which are relaxed, and
disposes them all according to their nature;—that sort of remedy
of violent affections is pleasant and agreeable to every man, and
has the name sweet. But enough of this.

The faculty of smell does not admit of differences of kind; for
all smells are of a half-formed nature, and no element is so
proportioned as to have any smell. The veins about the nose are
too narrow to admit earth and water, and too wide to detain fire
and air; and for this reason no one ever perceives the smell of
any of them; but smells always proceed from bodies that are damp,
or putrefying, or liquefying, or evaporating, and are perceptible
only in the intermediate state, when water is changing into air
and air into water; and all of them are either vapour or mist.
That which is passing out of air into water is mist, and that
which is passing from water into air is vapour; and hence all
smells are thinner than water and thicker than air. The proof of
this is, that when there is any obstruction to the respiration,
and a man draws in his breath by force, then no smell filters
through, but the air without the smell alone penetrates.
Wherefore the varieties of smell have no name, and they have not
many, or definite and simple kinds; but they are distinguished
only as painful and pleasant, the one sort irritating and
disturbing the whole cavity which is situated between the head
and the navel, the other having a soothing influence, and
restoring this same region to an agreeable and natural condition.

In considering the third kind of sense, hearing, we must speak of
the causes in which it originates. We may in general assume sound
to be a blow which passes through the ears, and is transmitted by
means of the air, the brain, and the blood, to the soul, and that
hearing is the vibration of this blow, which begins in the head
and ends in the region of the liver. The sound which moves
swiftly is acute, and the sound which moves slowly is grave, and
that which is regular is equable and smooth, and the reverse is
harsh. A great body of sound is loud, and a small body of sound
the reverse. Respecting the harmonies of sound I must hereafter
speak.

There is a fourth class of sensible things, having many intricate
varieties, which must now be distinguished. They are called by
the general name of colours, and are a flame which emanates from
every sort of body, and has particles corresponding to the sense
of sight. I have spoken already, in what has preceded, of the
causes which generate sight, and in this place it will be natural
and suitable to give a rational theory of colours.

Of the particles coming from other bodies which fall upon the
sight, some are smaller and some are larger, and some are equal
to the parts of the sight itself. Those which are equal are
imperceptible, and we call them transparent. The larger produce
contraction, the smaller dilation, in the sight, exercising a
power akin to that of hot and cold bodies on the flesh, or of
astringent bodies on the tongue, or of those heating bodies which
we termed pungent. White and black are similar effects of
contraction and dilation in another sphere, and for this reason
have a different appearance. Wherefore, we ought to term white
that which dilates the visual ray, and the opposite of this is
black. There is also a swifter motion of a different sort of fire
which strikes and dilates the ray of sight until it reaches the
eyes, forcing a way through their passages and melting them, and
eliciting from them a union of fire and water which we call
tears, being itself an opposite fire which comes to them from an
opposite direction—the inner fire flashes forth like lightning,
and the outer finds a way in and is extinguished in the moisture,
and all sorts of colours are generated by the mixture. This
affection is termed dazzling, and the object which produces it is
called bright and flashing. There is another sort of fire which
is intermediate, and which reaches and mingles with the moisture
of the eye without flashing; and in this, the fire mingling with
the ray of the moisture, produces a colour like blood, to which
we give the name of red. A bright hue mingled with red and white
gives the colour called auburn (Greek). The law of proportion,
however, according to which the several colours are formed, even
if a man knew he would be foolish in telling, for he could not
give any necessary reason, nor indeed any tolerable or probable
explanation of them. Again, red, when mingled with black and
white, becomes purple, but it becomes umber (Greek) when the
colours are burnt as well as mingled and the black is more
thoroughly mixed with them. Flame-colour (Greek) is produced by a
union of auburn and dun (Greek), and dun by an admixture of black
and white; pale yellow (Greek), by an admixture of white and
auburn. White and bright meeting, and falling upon a full black,
become dark blue (Greek), and when dark blue mingles with white,
a light blue (Greek) colour is formed, as flame-colour with black
makes leek green (Greek). There will be no difficulty in seeing
how and by what mixtures the colours derived from these are made
according to the rules of probability. He, however, who should
attempt to verify all this by experiment, would forget the
difference of the human and divine nature. For God only has the
knowledge and also the power which are able to combine many
things into one and again resolve the one into many. But no man
either is or ever will be able to accomplish either the one or
the other operation.

These are the elements, thus of necessity then subsisting, which
the creator of the fairest and best of created things associated
with himself, when he made the self-sufficing and most perfect
God, using the necessary causes as his ministers in the
accomplishment of his work, but himself contriving the good in
all his creations. Wherefore we may distinguish two sorts of
causes, the one divine and the other necessary, and may seek for
the divine in all things, as far as our nature admits, with a
view to the blessed life; but the necessary kind only for the
sake of the divine, considering that without them and when
isolated from them, these higher things for which we look cannot
be apprehended or received or in any way shared by us.

Seeing, then, that we have now prepared for our use the various
classes of causes which are the material out of which the
remainder of our discourse must be woven, just as wood is the
material of the carpenter, let us revert in a few words to the
point at which we began, and then endeavour to add on a suitable
ending to the beginning of our tale.

As I said at first, when all things were in disorder God created
in each thing in relation to itself, and in all things in
relation to each other, all the measures and harmonies which they
could possibly receive. For in those days nothing had any
proportion except by accident; nor did any of the things which
now have names deserve to be named at all—as, for example, fire,
water, and the rest of the elements. All these the creator first
set in order, and out of them he constructed the universe, which
was a single animal comprehending in itself all other animals,
mortal and immortal. Now of the divine, he himself was the
creator, but the creation of the mortal he committed to his
offspring. And they, imitating him, received from him the
immortal principle of the soul; and around this they proceeded to
fashion a mortal body, and made it to be the vehicle of the soul,
and constructed within the body a soul of another nature which
was mortal, subject to terrible and irresistible
affections,—first of all, pleasure, the greatest incitement to
evil; then, pain, which deters from good; also rashness and fear,
two foolish counsellors, anger hard to be appeased, and hope
easily led astray;—these they mingled with irrational sense and
with all-daring love according to necessary laws, and so framed
man. Wherefore, fearing to pollute the divine any more than was
absolutely unavoidable, they gave to the mortal nature a separate
habitation in another part of the body, placing the neck between
them to be the isthmus and boundary, which they constructed
between the head and breast, to keep them apart. And in the
breast, and in what is termed the thorax, they encased the mortal
soul; and as the one part of this was superior and the other
inferior they divided the cavity of the thorax into two parts, as
the women’s and men’s apartments are divided in houses, and
placed the midriff to be a wall of partition between them. That
part of the inferior soul which is endowed with courage and
passion and loves contention they settled nearer the head, midway
between the midriff and the neck, in order that it might be under
the rule of reason and might join with it in controlling and
restraining the desires when they are no longer willing of their
own accord to obey the word of command issuing from the citadel.

The heart, the knot of the veins and the fountain of the blood
which races through all the limbs, was set in the place of guard,
that when the might of passion was roused by reason making
proclamation of any wrong assailing them from without or being
perpetrated by the desires within, quickly the whole power of
feeling in the body, perceiving these commands and threats, might
obey and follow through every turn and alley, and thus allow the
principle of the best to have the command in all of them. But the
gods, foreknowing that the palpitation of the heart in the
expectation of danger and the swelling and excitement of passion
was caused by fire, formed and implanted as a supporter to the
heart the lung, which was, in the first place, soft and
bloodless, and also had within hollows like the pores of a
sponge, in order that by receiving the breath and the drink, it
might give coolness and the power of respiration and alleviate
the heat. Wherefore they cut the air-channels leading to the
lung, and placed the lung about the heart as a soft spring, that,
when passion was rife within, the heart, beating against a
yielding body, might be cooled and suffer less, and might thus
become more ready to join with passion in the service of reason.

The part of the soul which desires meats and drinks and the other
things of which it has need by reason of the bodily nature, they
placed between the midriff and the boundary of the navel,
contriving in all this region a sort of manger for the food of
the body; and there they bound it down like a wild animal which
was chained up with man, and must be nourished if man was to
exist. They appointed this lower creation his place here in order
that he might be always feeding at the manger, and have his
dwelling as far as might be from the council-chamber, making as
little noise and disturbance as possible, and permitting the best
part to advise quietly for the good of the whole. And knowing
that this lower principle in man would not comprehend reason, and
even if attaining to some degree of perception would never
naturally care for rational notions, but that it would be led
away by phantoms and visions night and day,—to be a remedy for
this, God combined with it the liver, and placed it in the house
of the lower nature, contriving that it should be solid and
smooth, and bright and sweet, and should also have a bitter
quality, in order that the power of thought, which proceeds from
the mind, might be reflected as in a mirror which receives
likenesses of objects and gives back images of them to the sight;
and so might strike terror into the desires, when, making use of
the bitter part of the liver, to which it is akin, it comes
threatening and invading, and diffusing this bitter element
swiftly through the whole liver produces colours like bile, and
contracting every part makes it wrinkled and rough; and twisting
out of its right place and contorting the lobe and closing and
shutting up the vessels and gates, causes pain and loathing. And
the converse happens when some gentle inspiration of the
understanding pictures images of an opposite character, and
allays the bile and bitterness by refusing to stir or touch the
nature opposed to itself, but by making use of the natural
sweetness of the liver, corrects all things and makes them to be
right and smooth and free, and renders the portion of the soul
which resides about the liver happy and joyful, enabling it to
pass the night in peace, and to practise divination in sleep,
inasmuch as it has no share in mind and reason. For the authors
of our being, remembering the command of their father when he
bade them create the human race as good as they could, that they
might correct our inferior parts and make them to attain a
measure of truth, placed in the liver the seat of divination. And
herein is a proof that God has given the art of divination not to
the wisdom, but to the foolishness of man. No man, when in his
wits, attains prophetic truth and inspiration; but when he
receives the inspired word, either his intelligence is enthralled
in sleep, or he is demented by some distemper or possession. And
he who would understand what he remembers to have been said,
whether in a dream or when he was awake, by the prophetic and
inspired nature, or would determine by reason the meaning of the
apparitions which he has seen, and what indications they afford
to this man or that, of past, present or future good and evil,
must first recover his wits. But, while he continues demented, he
cannot judge of the visions which he sees or the words which he
utters; the ancient saying is very true, that ‘only a man who has
his wits can act or judge about himself and his own affairs.’ And
for this reason it is customary to appoint interpreters to be
judges of the true inspiration. Some persons call them prophets;
they are quite unaware that they are only the expositors of dark
sayings and visions, and are not to be called prophets at all,
but only interpreters of prophecy.

Such is the nature of the liver, which is placed as we have
described in order that it may give prophetic intimations. During
the life of each individual these intimations are plainer, but
after his death the liver becomes blind, and delivers oracles too
obscure to be intelligible. The neighbouring organ (the spleen)
is situated on the left-hand side, and is constructed with a view
of keeping the liver bright and pure,—like a napkin, always ready
prepared and at hand to clean the mirror. And hence, when any
impurities arise in the region of the liver by reason of
disorders of the body, the loose nature of the spleen, which is
composed of a hollow and bloodless tissue, receives them all and
clears them away, and when filled with the unclean matter, swells
and festers, but, again, when the body is purged, settles down
into the same place as before, and is humbled.

Concerning the soul, as to which part is mortal and which divine,
and how and why they are separated, and where located, if God
acknowledges that we have spoken the truth, then, and then only,
can we be confident; still, we may venture to assert that what
has been said by us is probable, and will be rendered more
probable by investigation. Let us assume thus much.

The creation of the rest of the body follows next in order, and
this we may investigate in a similar manner. And it appears to be
very meet that the body should be framed on the following
principles:—

The authors of our race were aware that we should be intemperate
in eating and drinking, and take a good deal more than was
necessary or proper, by reason of gluttony. In order then that
disease might not quickly destroy us, and lest our mortal race
should perish without fulfilling its end—intending to provide
against this, the gods made what is called the lower belly, to be
a receptacle for the superfluous meat and drink, and formed the
convolution of the bowels, so that the food might be prevented
from passing quickly through and compelling the body to require
more food, thus producing insatiable gluttony, and making the
whole race an enemy to philosophy and music, and rebellious
against the divinest element within us.

The bones and flesh, and other similar parts of us, were made as
follows. The first principle of all of them was the generation of
the marrow. For the bonds of life which unite the soul with the
body are made fast there, and they are the root and foundation of
the human race. The marrow itself is created out of other
materials: God took such of the primary triangles as were
straight and smooth, and were adapted by their perfection to
produce fire and water, and air and earth—these, I say, he
separated from their kinds, and mingling them in due proportions
with one another, made the marrow out of them to be a universal
seed of the whole race of mankind; and in this seed he then
planted and enclosed the souls, and in the original distribution
gave to the marrow as many and various forms as the different
kinds of souls were hereafter to receive. That which, like a
field, was to receive the divine seed, he made round every way,
and called that portion of the marrow, brain, intending that,
when an animal was perfected, the vessel containing this
substance should be the head; but that which was intended to
contain the remaining and mortal part of the soul he distributed
into figures at once round and elongated, and he called them all
by the name ‘marrow’; and to these, as to anchors, fastening the
bonds of the whole soul, he proceeded to fashion around them the
entire framework of our body, constructing for the marrow, first
of all a complete covering of bone.

Bone was composed by him in the following manner. Having sifted
pure and smooth earth he kneaded it and wetted it with marrow,
and after that he put it into fire and then into water, and once
more into fire and again into water—in this way by frequent
transfers from one to the other he made it insoluble by either.
Out of this he fashioned, as in a lathe, a globe made of bone,
which he placed around the brain, and in this he left a narrow
opening; and around the marrow of the neck and back he formed
vertebrae which he placed under one another like pivots,
beginning at the head and extending through the whole of the
trunk. Thus wishing to preserve the entire seed, he enclosed it
in a stone-like casing, inserting joints, and using in the
formation of them the power of the other or diverse as an
intermediate nature, that they might have motion and flexure.
Then again, considering that the bone would be too brittle and
inflexible, and when heated and again cooled would soon mortify
and destroy the seed within—having this in view, he contrived the
sinews and the flesh, that so binding all the members together by
the sinews, which admitted of being stretched and relaxed about
the vertebrae, he might thus make the body capable of flexion and
extension, while the flesh would serve as a protection against
the summer heat and against the winter cold, and also against
falls, softly and easily yielding to external bodies, like
articles made of felt; and containing in itself a warm moisture
which in summer exudes and makes the surface damp, would impart a
natural coolness to the whole body; and again in winter by the
help of this internal warmth would form a very tolerable defence
against the frost which surrounds it and attacks it from without.
He who modelled us, considering these things, mixed earth with
fire and water and blended them; and making a ferment of acid and
salt, he mingled it with them and formed soft and succulent
flesh. As for the sinews, he made them of a mixture of bone and
unfermented flesh, attempered so as to be in a mean, and gave
them a yellow colour; wherefore the sinews have a firmer and more
glutinous nature than flesh, but a softer and moister nature than
the bones. With these God covered the bones and marrow, binding
them together by sinews, and then enshrouded them all in an upper
covering of flesh. The more living and sensitive of the bones he
enclosed in the thinnest film of flesh, and those which had the
least life within them in the thickest and most solid flesh. So
again on the joints of the bones, where reason indicated that no
more was required, he placed only a thin covering of flesh, that
it might not interfere with the flexion of our bodies and make
them unwieldy because difficult to move; and also that it might
not, by being crowded and pressed and matted together, destroy
sensation by reason of its hardness, and impair the memory and
dull the edge of intelligence. Wherefore also the thighs and the
shanks and the hips, and the bones of the arms and the forearms,
and other parts which have no joints, and the inner bones, which
on account of the rarity of the soul in the marrow are destitute
of reason—all these are abundantly provided with flesh; but such
as have mind in them are in general less fleshy, except where the
creator has made some part solely of flesh in order to give
sensation,—as, for example, the tongue. But commonly this is not
the case. For the nature which comes into being and grows up in
us by a law of necessity, does not admit of the combination of
solid bone and much flesh with acute perceptions. More than any
other part the framework of the head would have had them, if they
could have co-existed, and the human race, having a strong and
fleshy and sinewy head, would have had a life twice or many times
as long as it now has, and also more healthy and free from pain.
But our creators, considering whether they should make a
longer-lived race which was worse, or a shorter-lived race which
was better, came to the conclusion that every one ought to prefer
a shorter span of life, which was better, to a longer one, which
was worse; and therefore they covered the head with thin bone,
but not with flesh and sinews, since it had no joints; and thus
the head was added, having more wisdom and sensation than the
rest of the body, but also being in every man far weaker. For
these reasons and after this manner God placed the sinews at the
extremity of the head, in a circle round the neck, and glued them
together by the principle of likeness and fastened the
extremities of the jawbones to them below the face, and the other
sinews he dispersed throughout the body, fastening limb to limb.
The framers of us framed the mouth, as now arranged, having teeth
and tongue and lips, with a view to the necessary and the good
contriving the way in for necessary purposes, the way out for the
best purposes; for that is necessary which enters in and gives
food to the body; but the river of speech, which flows out of a
man and ministers to the intelligence, is the fairest and noblest
of all streams. Still the head could neither be left a bare frame
of bones, on account of the extremes of heat and cold in the
different seasons, nor yet be allowed to be wholly covered, and
so become dull and senseless by reason of an overgrowth of flesh.
The fleshy nature was not therefore wholly dried up, but a large
sort of peel was parted off and remained over, which is now
called the skin. This met and grew by the help of the cerebral
moisture, and became the circular envelopment of the head. And
the moisture, rising up under the sutures, watered and closed in
the skin upon the crown, forming a sort of knot. The diversity of
the sutures was caused by the power of the courses of the soul
and of the food, and the more these struggled against one another
the more numerous they became, and fewer if the struggle were
less violent. This skin the divine power pierced all round with
fire, and out of the punctures which were thus made the moisture
issued forth, and the liquid and heat which was pure came away,
and a mixed part which was composed of the same material as the
skin, and had a fineness equal to the punctures, was borne up by
its own impulse and extended far outside the head, but being too
slow to escape, was thrust back by the external air, and rolled
up underneath the skin, where it took root. Thus the hair sprang
up in the skin, being akin to it because it is like threads of
leather, but rendered harder and closer through the pressure of
the cold, by which each hair, while in process of separation from
the skin, is compressed and cooled. Wherefore the creator formed
the head hairy, making use of the causes which I have mentioned,
and reflecting also that instead of flesh the brain needed the
hair to be a light covering or guard, which would give shade in
summer and shelter in winter, and at the same time would not
impede our quickness of perception. From the combination of
sinew, skin, and bone, in the structure of the finger, there
arises a triple compound, which, when dried up, takes the form of
one hard skin partaking of all three natures, and was fabricated
by these second causes, but designed by mind which is the
principal cause with an eye to the future. For our creators well
knew that women and other animals would some day be framed out of
men, and they further knew that many animals would require the
use of nails for many purposes; wherefore they fashioned in men
at their first creation the rudiments of nails. For this purpose
and for these reasons they caused skin, hair, and nails to grow
at the extremities of the limbs.

And now that all the parts and members of the mortal animal had
come together, since its life of necessity consisted of fire and
breath, and it therefore wasted away by dissolution and
depletion, the gods contrived the following remedy: They mingled
a nature akin to that of man with other forms and perceptions,
and thus created another kind of animal. These are the trees and
plants and seeds which have been improved by cultivation and are
now domesticated among us; anciently there were only the wild
kinds, which are older than the cultivated. For everything that
partakes of life may be truly called a living being, and the
animal of which we are now speaking partakes of the third kind of
soul, which is said to be seated between the midriff and the
navel, having no part in opinion or reason or mind, but only in
feelings of pleasure and pain and the desires which accompany
them. For this nature is always in a passive state, revolving in
and about itself, repelling the motion from without and using its
own, and accordingly is not endowed by nature with the power of
observing or reflecting on its own concerns. Wherefore it lives
and does not differ from a living being, but is fixed and rooted
in the same spot, having no power of self-motion.

Now after the superior powers had created all these natures to be
food for us who are of the inferior nature, they cut various
channels through the body as through a garden, that it might be
watered as from a running stream. In the first place, they cut
two hidden channels or veins down the back where the skin and the
flesh join, which answered severally to the right and left side
of the body. These they let down along the backbone, so as to
have the marrow of generation between them, where it was most
likely to flourish, and in order that the stream coming down from
above might flow freely to the other parts, and equalize the
irrigation. In the next place, they divided the veins about the
head, and interlacing them, they sent them in opposite
directions; those coming from the right side they sent to the
left of the body, and those from the left they diverted towards
the right, so that they and the skin might together form a bond
which should fasten the head to the body, since the crown of the
head was not encircled by sinews; and also in order that the
sensations from both sides might be distributed over the whole
body. And next, they ordered the water-courses of the body in a
manner which I will describe, and which will be more easily
understood if we begin by admitting that all things which have
lesser parts retain the greater, but the greater cannot retain
the lesser. Now of all natures fire has the smallest parts, and
therefore penetrates through earth and water and air and their
compounds, nor can anything hold it. And a similar principle
applies to the human belly; for when meats and drinks enter it,
it holds them, but it cannot hold air and fire, because the
particles of which they consist are smaller than its own
structure.